Indian Captive (23 page)

The white boy’s wounds were many, but not dangerous. In Earth Woman’s lodge he was in good hands. The woman devoted all her energies to making her pale-faced son strong and well again. She bound his wounds with balsam and juniper bark. She brewed strengthening teas of sassafras and witch hazel. She kept him in bed for days. Her dark eyes glowed with happiness when she saw him begin to mend.

One day when the boy woke up from an afternoon sleep, he gave a start of surprise, for Molly Jemison sat on the ground by his bedside. Intently he watched her braiding strands of bark. Her head was bent, her eyes were fixed upon her work, but her long braids of yellow hair hanging down beside her cheeks told him what he wanted to know.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Her eyes found his at once. “No, you are awake,” she said. “You have slept well.”

“What are you doing?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Braiding a bark rope,” she replied. “Earth Woman showed me how.” She glanced at the Indian woman. “And Earth Woman is making me a new burden-strap.”

“A burden-strap?” asked the boy, puzzled. “What do you want with a burden-strap?”

“Now that Blue Jay walks,” answered Molly, “I shall carry other burdens.”

“But you are a white girl, aren’t you? Why should a white girl carry burdens?” asked Running Deer.

“I have to work like the Indian women,” said Molly simply.

“You do? Do they make you?” asked the boy in astonishment. “What are you doing here, anyhow? Who are you? Where did you come from?”

There was so much to tell, it was hard to begin. The happy English words flowed swiftly back and forth as Molly explained her situation. Then it was the white boy’s turn. His name was Josiah Johnson and he talked a long time about his home in Virginia and told how he was taken.

“The Indians liked you,” Molly said. “You showed no fear or sadness, no irritation when you ran the gauntlet. Not a muscle of your face betrayed what you were thinking. They decided you would make a good Indian.”

“A good Indian?” cried Josiah, in amazement. “What do they think? I’ll never be an Indian as long as I live!”

“I said that, too, at first,” replied Molly, sadly, “but there’s no other way. When once you are adopted into their tribe, there’s nothing can be done about it.”

“We’ll see about that!” said Josiah, fiercely. “See here! Don’t tell me you believe all they say about our white blood being washed away and there’s nothing now to fear from them and how they’re going to love us like one of their own people—all those things that old fellow, Shagbark, was saying. Don’t tell me you believe that the cruel, revengeful Indians who can half kill a poor captive in the gauntlet, know what kindness is! You don’t think they mean what they say, do you?”

Molly hated to disappoint her new friend, but she had to speak the truth. “I’m afraid I do.” The words came softly. She looked over to Earth Woman and watched her brown fingers busily weaving delicate bark threads over and under. “I believe every word they say,” she added. “I never knew what kindness meant until I came here—perhaps because I never needed it so much till then.”

“Y
OU LOOK AS HANDSOME
as an Indian Chief!” exclaimed Molly. “I’m not an Indian Chief!” protested Josiah. “And you must not tease me. I only put these clothes on to please Earth Woman.”

“Your Indian mother worked so hard to make them for you,” said Molly. “She must be very proud….”

“She is a good woman and she is always very kind to me,” said Josiah, interrupting, “but I can never call her Mother.”

Molly looked up and down at the white boy’s splendid new Indian clothes. His long shirt was held in at the waist with a wide belt. A broad red sash, strung across shoulder and chest, was tied with long-fringed ends on his left hip. His red broadcloth leggings, richly embroidered with beads, were held with garters below the knees. He wore a close-fitting cap with a hawk’s feather emerging above a cluster of smaller feathers. He carried no tomahawk or weapons. Except for his face, he had all the outward appearance of a Seneca.

“I’m to have a new gown…too,” said Molly, slowly, “after I finish the moccasins I’m making.”

“You are?” asked Josiah. “Bright red leggings like mine? Broadcloth all trimmed up with fancy beads? It will look mighty pretty on a girl.”

“No,” said Molly, biting her lip. “Not cloth… only deerskin.”

“Deerskin! Backwoodsman’s deerskin would be good enough for me!” growled Josiah, savagely. “I feel like a fool, dressed up like this.”

“How funny!” said Molly, laughing. “You have a handsome cloth outfit and all you want is deerskin. I have to wear deerskin—but what I want is cloth, embroidered with beads.”

“I would trade with you, if I could!” answered Josiah. Then, changing the subject: “How do you like the way the Indian girls play football?”

“I don’t like it,” said Molly, emphatically. “Star Flower and Gray Mouse keep throwing me over in the snow banks. I could kick better, too, if my stomach wasn’t so empty.”

“What? Are you hungry too?” asked Josiah. “Earth Woman had no meat in her pot today and I’m half-starved.” The two captives looked back where a group of Indian boys were throwing long sticks along an icy trough made by dragging a log through the snow. “That snow-snake game, as the boys play it, is great fun,” added Josiah.

“Did you throw the
gawasa,
the snow-snake?” asked Molly.

“I did!” laughed Josiah. “I threw it farther than any of them. My side always won. “That’s why I stopped playing. They place a colored stick in the snow to show how far each snake goes, and then keep moving along. Those snow-snakes can travel fast—they are polished as smooth as rattlers.”

“Come, let’s go to Red Bird’s lodge and get warm,” suggested Molly, pulling her blanket more tightly about her. “The story-teller’s coming tonight and maybe there will be something boiling in the pot. Squirrel Woman won’t be there. She’s gone to help Panther Woman today.”

The village below the great Falling Waters looked bleak and cheerless now that the freezing moon had come and the ground was covered with snow. The trees in the forest with their bare branches stood out more plainly, silhouetted against dark evergreen pines and hemlocks. In the frozen fields, dried-up cornstalks shook and rattled in the wind. The thunder of the pouring water was stilled, for the river was partly frozen over and in the center of each of the falls, only a trickling stream kept running. All the canoes had been buried deep under mounds of sand on the river’s bank. Except for the Indian children at play and the columns of smoke pouring from the roofs of the lodges, there were no signs of life.

The two captives walked slowly, making criss-cross patterns in the snow with their snow-shoes.

“Squirrel Woman doesn’t hurt you, does she?” asked Josiah.

“She’s never plunged me in water yet,” laughed Molly. “Red Bird told her once that she must not use violence, but that she might plunge me in water till I promise to do better. She hasn’t—yet!”

“She’d better not try!” muttered Josiah, fiercely. “It seems funny with the men away, doesn’t it? Only Log-in-the-Water, ancient and lazy; Shagbark, laid up with a lame foot; and Running Deer, a good-for-nothing white captive.”

“Running Deer is good for a great deal,” said Molly, softly. “Earth Woman never lacks meat now that she has a man in her lodge.”

“You mean she
did
have meat until the ground froze up and all the squirrels and small animals hibernated. Even then, what could I do with a miserable small boy’s bow and arrow? They won’t even give me flint arrowheads. If Running Deer isn’t allowed to go out with the men, he will soon grow as lazy as Log-in-the-Water and as fat as Big Kettle. I tell you, I need something to do! This thing of sitting around all day doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Chief Burning Sky knows you would give them the slip and never come back here again,” said Molly.

“I can understand why he doesn’t want me to go with the warriors on any of the expeditions against the white people,” said Josiah, “but he might give me a gun and let me go with the hunters down the Allegheny to the Ohio country. At least I can hunt. I’m as good a shot as any of the Indians.”

“If they had taken you with them,” said Molly, “I would have no one to talk to.”

“I’d hate to start off anywhere,” said Josiah, thoughtfully, “without taking you along.”

“Oh, Josiah!” cried Molly, trembling. “Promise me if you ever try to go back home you’ll take me with you.”

“I’ll try every way I can to take you,” said Josiah, soberly. “I swear I will. But if I can’t—then I must go without you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t bear it…” said Molly, “to be left behind.”

“Well, don’t worry now,” said Josiah. “We can’t try a thing till spring. With the streams frozen up and ice and snow everywhere, we can’t take a step. We must just lie around and wait. If only I could have gone with the hunters, it would have been something to keep me busy.”

“Do you know,” said Molly, “the deer meat is gone in Red Bird’s lodge, too. There’s been none in the hominy for over a week. That’s why my stomach feels empty all the time. Why don’t you ask Log-in-the-Water for his gun and go out and take a deer?”

“He won’t let me have it,” said Josiah, crossly. “I’ve asked him already. He won’t trust me.”

“If only it were Shagbark…” ventured Molly.

“He’s just as bad,” said Josiah. “I asked him, too, and he said a male captive must not leave the village.”

Leaving their snow-shoes leaning against the outside wall of the lodge, Molly lifted the bear-robe flap and the two entered. Turkey Feather and Earth Woman were inside. Earth Woman threw a proud glance at her adopted son, but did not speak as she followed Red Bird and Shining Star into the adjoining room.

“Where’s that new gown you were talking about?” asked Josiah, grinning. “And those red broadcloth leggings with fancy beads?”

“Oh—it’s not started yet,” replied Molly, in a disappointed tone, “and it won’t be cloth at all—only deerskin. Squirrel Woman and Shining Star bought fine cloth from Fallenash, the white trader. Perhaps they mean to make new costumes for themselves. I had hoped for broadcloth too, but Squirrel Woman says deerskin is good enough for me. But first, I’m making a new pair of moccasins—just to learn how.”